Laying In The Arms Of A Snowstorm
by AmericanMadeInChina
Summary: Gilbert was lonely, with naught but his brother in his company. His family had abandoned them in time of financial crisis, and his fear of dying in the freezing cold was growing. The clouds were hiding the sky, but one small crack of sunlight broke through. One strange, childish, and maybe, just maybe, equally lonely man named Ivan Braginski. (Ivan x Gilbert)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I shouldn't be writing this. I already got a USUK fanfic going. Come on, myself, come on.**

**So yeah a RusPru AU. I've been reading a shitload of these lately, but apparently, I ran out. So I decided to write one of my own.**

**/**

Although it's been quite a time, Gilbert still recalled the light flakes of cold fluttering down from the sky like butterflies before landing gracefully on his nose and equally white hair. His younger brother's hand rested in his own with his blond haired head resting on his shoulder, tears creeping from his sky blue eyes.

"Mama... Papa..." Ludwig sobbed, his fingers only growing more intact with Gilbert's. The albino ran his other hand through his now tousled mop of golden locks.

He did his best to hush his brother, with his typically scratchy and loud voice now becoming gentle words murmured in German. "It'll be okay, Luddy." he said in a whisper, although he himself was skeptical of that notion.

Ludwig's sobs began stiffing to mere whimpers, earning Gilbert's undivided attention. Suddenly, his crimson eyes were met with the familiar azure gaze of his brother, tear stains still clear on his cheeks. "How do _you_ know?" he asked quietly.

The elder of the two was caught in a net of silence, for he hadn't expected such a question. Gilbert dug his unkept nails into the fabric of his trousers, his blood red orbs desperate to avert from Ludwig's gaze. Despite that urge, he kept them fixed on the other. "I...I just know."

Ludwig didn't seem satisfied with that answer, but didn't push it. His gaze floated back towards the snowy skyline, with no interest in conversation.

Gilbert frowned at his younger brother's negativity. His eyes eventually found the sight of flakey frozen water interesting, as he was now lost in the hypnotising, star-decorated night sky. His eyes weighed down with exhaustion, his head supporting itself gently against Ludwig's. Only the soft murmuring of the snow landing soundly on substances was his lullaby that sent him reliving the events that had occurred just hours ago.

_There was yelling. There was chaos. Most of all, there echoed the sound of his own crying in Gilbert's ears._

_"You bitch! I work my ass off every day and this is how you repay me?!"_

_"My sister is in the hospital dying! I had no choice!"_

_"I don't give a shit about your sister! Our money is gone!"_

_"We still have some of it left! We can get back up."_

_"Not with two kids we can't."_

_The next words that were said were the most terrifying of all. "Then I guess we'll just have to kick them out."_

_Gilbert didn't know what that meant. Take them to their distant relatives they'd never been told of? Put them up for adoption? Surely, they couldn't be thinking of actually disowning them, right? The steps echoing across the floorboards on the other side of the door were blocked out by the sound of Gilbert's heart throwing itself against his ribcage like a caged animal. He was in a full out state of panic when the doorknob was turning painfully slowly. His grip around Ludwig's sides tightened as his mother entered the room._

_"Gilbert, Ludwig," she began. "I'm sorry, but you see..." the woman trailed off. "We can't afford to keep you here anymore. Your relatives all hate us, and putting you up for adoption would be too much trouble." She frowned heavily, but no tears cracked from the corners of her eyes. "I hate to have this come on so suddenly, but we have no choice. Get out."_

_The albino's heart settled to nothing at the words. "But, mom—" he was cut off._

_"I'm sorry, dear, but we simply can't afford to keep you at our house. Take your coats and leave." she ordered._

_Gilbert didn't want to believe in the words that were being spoken to him, despite the fact that they were unending in echoing throughout his ears. He reached out his hand in an attempt to perhaps give his mother some second thought. His desperate attempts were met with vain, for his outstretched fingers were met with the force of a hand pushing them away._

_"Come on now, Gilbert, don't make this difficult." she said sternly, though her voice cracked slightly. The woman took her son's shoulder in her firm grasp and lifted him from his place on the floor. "Come." she said._

_Before he could reply, Gilbert was being pushed out the door and towards the outdoors, his younger brother still in his arms. "Mom, no!" he whimpered weakly, his cold causing his voice to shake. He turned his body around in her firm grip, his free arm grasping onto her shoulder. "No, please." he begged._

_His mother's only response was said in action—by thrusting him out of the door, only to land in the frigid bed of snow that lay outside. "I don't understand." he murmured, gazing up into his mother's cerulean eyes._

_The woman sighed and shook her head. "Neither do I." And she shut the door. For the first time in his fifteen years of living, he felt completely and utterly forgotten. Forgotten by everyone but his beloved brother, who had also been neglected. He could feel a cool sensation dripping from his cheeks. It took a moment for Gilbert to realise that they were his teardrops. He choked on struggling sobs, bringing his brother closer in his arms. It lasted awhile, just laying in the snow with nothing but his own sobs there to comfort him. His strength had eventually built up enough for him to heave his body from the ground. Only then did he notice that their jackets had been tossed atop them. A small part of him felt grateful, but he didn't let that sincerity consume him. He gently placed Ludwig down on the ground, sliding his jacket on and then his own._

_Gilbert drifted off across the snowy land, his brother's hand clutched in his own and his crimson eyes set on nothing but what lay ahead. He was starting to believe that having Ludwig's fingers intertwined with his own was only for his comfort. The flawlessly white substance below crunched every time their boats fell against it. It felt like ages before they both collapsed against a park bench, their fingers still locked. Silence ate at the both of them. It was peaceful and tedious, until two single words cracked it._

_"I'm cold." Ludwig whispered, his voice cracking as he did so. Gilbert's crimson gaze drifted to the source of the voice, and his heart stilled. His younger brother's skin was pale and beginning to blue. His sun-lit wisps of hair were being eaten at with frost. His breath froze when he spoke._

_Gilbert gasped and removed his coat, immediately draping it around Ludwig's shoulders. That only made it worse, though. His lips were fully purple and his limbs were shaking. The albino wrapped his arms around Ludwig, trying to supply the younger with body warmth. After moments, the shaking stopped, and Gilbert had figured his brother was aided. But when he brought his eyes to the body in his arms, he felt no breath dripping from those lips. His arms were limp and his eyes lifeless. That familiar thundering in Gilbert's chest erupted again._

_"Ludwig?" he asked, with his voice barely above a whisper._

_There wasn't a response. He rose his voice. "Oi, Ludwig!"_

_His brother remained silent. "Wake up, Ludwig!" he screeched. He kept doing it repeatedly, shaking Ludwig's shoulders. Tears creeped towards the bottom of his eyelashes._

_"No!" he screamed. "No, no, no!"_

"Sir!"

Gilbert's eyes whipped open at the accented voice that snapped him from slumber, but he was still momentarily lost in his dream.

"Don't die!" He reached his hand out, but it unexpectedly met a broad chest clothed with a heavy coat.

Gilbert's ruby-red orbs clashed with the stranger's amethyst ones. Immediately, he backed away from him.

The man tilted his head and smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, did I frighten you?"

_'Russian?'_ Gilbert thought briefly before replying. "No, you didn't." he lied, not quite willing to let his pride shatter before his very eyes, as well as that of a stranger. "Did you need something?"

The man—seemingly Russian—seemed to notice the other's displeasure at his disturbance. "I apologise if I disturbed you, but I wanted to make sure you were okay. You were sweating and yelling in your sleep." he explained.

Gilbert was relatively surprised at his own actions. "Sorry for the disturbance. It was just a bad dream."

The stranger nodded in understanding and smiled gently. "Do you two have any parents? From the looks of it, you are not quite adults yet."

The albino held back a growl from the man's endless prying into their personal life. "Yes, we do." He crossed his arms across his chest childishly. "If it means anything to you."

"I could call them, if you like." he offered. "It's freezing out here, after all." He smiled generously, his pearly white teeth peeking out from his slightly chapped lips.

Gilbert refused to give in, his eyes glaring daggers in reply to the friendly gesture. "Thanks, but—"

"We can't go back to Mama and Papa's." Ludwig said, sadness eating at his words. He pulled his knees up to his chest and focused his gaze on the ground.

The albino opened his mouth to reply, only to be cut off once again.

The Russian man frowned and tilted his head in childish confusion. He kneeled down to meet Ludwig's sky blue eyes. "Why is that?"

"They can't afford to have us there." he mumbled.

Gilbert knew Ludwig didn't know what that really meant, but was merely copying their parents' words. He dug his nails into the fabric of his pants, trying to keep the ocean of emotions flowing inside of him tame.

The stranger shifted his gaze towards Gilbert, his pitiful expression gained some seriousness. He lowered his voice, as if not wishing for Ludwig to hear him ask, "You were disowned?"

The younger male refused to make eye contact with the elder, but nodded his head. He couldn't tell what the Russian was thinking—especially now that he couldn't see his expression.

"I can take you in." the man stated bluntly.

It took Gilbert seconds to process the words, and once he did, the words refused to form a sentence. "N-No, don't get so involved—"

A heavy purple glare made him close his mouth. "I can't just leave a couple of kids out here to freeze to death." he sighed. "Come on, you know you won't last more than a few days. This isn't the city—you can't do street performances to earn money. And you can't expect people to be as generous as I am." It sounded rather vain, but his tone made naught of that.

Gilbert's voice was in a gentle whisper when he spoke. "Yeah, I know, but . . . " he wasn't cut off this time, rather, he simply found himself unable to speak. He made eye contact with his younger brother, and the horrid scene from his dream was relived in a second. He didn't know what he was doing when he said it; perhaps it was the pure determination to keep he and his precious Ludwig alive. Crimson orbs clashed with amethysts once again. "Okay." He stood up, causing the stranger to back up. "We'll go with you." It felt as if a knife was stabbing mercilessly at his pride.

The man's eyes widened, and his mouth forming an 'o' shape, before he let his lips curl up softly in a seemingly genuine smile. "I see. In that case, I'm Ivan Braginski." He held out his gloved hand and Gilbert reluctantly shook it. "It's great to have you as my guest."

The young German rolled his eyes and chuckled mockingly. "Pfft, don't say stuff like that yet." He took Ludwig's hand in gesture for him to depart from the bench. "You don't even know me yet. For all you know, I could be planning to bath in your guts!" he exclaimed over-dramatically, his cocky grin finding his lips a good place to reside.

Ivan smiled as well, though not as mockingly. Even so, it gave off a frightening aura. "And I could be planning to have teenage German boy soup for dinner! Now we're even." He giggled at his own joke. He shoved his hands in his pockets. "It's getting cold. I guess that's the sign that we should be heading back to my house."

Gilbert grunted in agreement before following the Russian giant who began leading the way.

"Hey," he called to Ludwig in a whisper. He leaned down and said, "I told you it'd be okay." At least, he sure hoped it'd be.

/

**A/N: So should I like, uh, continue~? Give me your opinions, good or bad, please?**

**Thanks for reading. Until next chapter (maybe?)!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: My my~ I didn't expect to get such lovely reviews~ Sadly enough, in my opinion, this chapter sucks balls.**

**Warning: Gil and Luddy are obsessed with meat.**

**I should probably say this some time, so I'll do it now:**

**I don't own Hetalia or the characters—nor am I profiting off of my work. It is simply for entertainment.**

**/**

By the time the trio had reached Ivan's residence, both Gilbert and Ludwig's eyes had grown to the size of saucers. Before them stood a mansion roughly twenty above the ground, with yellowish paint peeling off the bricks, which told that the house had a few decades on it. The bushes were trimmed neatly, not a single leaf out of order. The patio had the typical set of a table and chairs. The real eye-catcher for Gilbert was the sight of a tarp-covered pool that just barely peeked out from behind the large house. The newer, little details overwhelmed the original house that clearly had renovation done on it.

It seemingly took minutes before Ivan was kind enough to snap them from their otherwise ongoing trance. The man smiled innocently and asked, "Is something the matter? I really believe we should be going inside before one of us catches cold."

The two Germans turned their heads in unison and nodded mechanically and loyally followed the Russian inside their dream residence. It was even better on the inside. A chandelier hung from the ceiling directly above them, light flickering from the diamond-like objects attract he'd to it. The kitchen was tile-floored, and the table marble. The rest of the house sported shiny, mahogany floorboards.

Ivan took notice of the boys' fascination, and giggled quietly. "If you'd like, I can give you a tour." he offered.

As much as Gilbert would've loved to accept that offer, he couldn't bring himself to feel comfortable enough to do so. "It's fine. My brother and I were hoping to get some sleep." He motioned towards Ludwig.

Ivan grinned brightly and clapped his hands together. "Why, of course! Right this way." As he led them up the fancy set of spiral stairs, he hummed happily to himself, practically skipping from one step to another. "It used to be my sisters', I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all." Gilbert assured the Russian.

Flashing one last sickly sweet smile at them, he added, "I'll be downstairs in the kitchen if you need me. Sweet dreams!" With that, he (seemingly) glided down the stairs, leaving Gilbert to slam the door and lock it for a sense of security. Once he turned around, his brother was already laying face up on the mighty king-sized bed. He scooted in next to him and pulled the blankets over his body, gleeful to notice the soft cotton that it was manufactured with.

"Mister Braginski is strange." Ludwig stated from out of the blue.

Gilbert rose an eyebrow, not quite from the statement itself, but to the suddenness of it. "Him? Yeah, I guess you're right." With a shrug, he laid down on the mattress with his arms supporting his head from above the pillow. "But it's still nice to know that we won't be freezing to death, right?" He attempted to sneak a bit of a joke in it, but he couldn't bring himself to do it properly.

Ludwig merely grunted in agreement, clearly sensing the thick tension that now rested between the two.

"Let's not think about that now, 'kay? I don't know about you, but I can barely keep my eyes open." That was mostly untrue. The main reason he had insisted on sleeping was to have a break from the gleeful man known as Ivan. In his book, being optimistic was a good thing—but there were still limits. Even so, sleeping would be a better option than pondering on their deaths.

Much to Gilbert's thankfulness, he saw Ludwig nod from out of the corner of his eye. He smiled softly and stroked the younger's golden locks as they both let their eyelids weigh down over their eyes.

As Gilbert sat with his arm loosely draped around his little brother, he felt far better than he had previously. He could feel the small shape of his shoulders, for his fingers were no longer numb. He could hear the breath of them both, but couldn't see it drifting off into the sky. He felt secure knowing that his brother was in his arms, as warm as can be, and safe. That was truly what made him able to drift off into a dreamland that held some hope.

/

The undeniable scent of juicy meat hit Gilbert's nostrils which sent his eyes whipping open. The mere smell of it made his mouth water, desperate to have just a taste of the ecstasy it sensed.

Soon, Ludwig sat up besides him, azure eyes bulging with determination. "Is that smell what I think it is?" he asked in a whisper.

"I think so." Gilbert replied.

Cerulean met with crimson, each eye filled with pure solemn emotion. In unison, the two brothers exclaimed, "Steak!"

In a split second, both Germans were bouncing excitedly down the spiral staircase. The fact that it wasn't even their house didn't seem to be an issue anymore. Gilbert was the first to reach the source of the smell, sliding into the kitchen after nearly slipping on the tiles due to his socks. Ludwig was not far behind.

Ivan sat at the table with the daily news and a steaming cup of exotic tea in his hands. His eyes abandoned the words on the newspaper to meet the sight of the two brothers. "Is something the matter?" he asked politely, giving one of his over-used, over-friendly smiles.

Neither boy responded, rather, they stared intently at the oven as if to make the contents inside float towards them. Ivan followed their eyes to see what they had been admiring so intensely.

"Ah, I see you've smelt the rib eye."

At last, Gilbert let his eyes wander from the oven to meet Ivan's form. "How much longer?"

"Hmm? Oh, twenty minutes."

Gilbert groaned dramatically, while Ludwig simply frowned. Ivan held back a chuckle and motioned towards the seats across from him. "Have a seat, will you? Let us entertain ourselves while we wait." he offered.

Before Gilbert could come up with an excuse, Ludwig was pulling out a chair and hopping up on it. Finding he had no other choice, the albino gave up and took a seat beside his brother. Ivan stood from his seat, saying, "I'll prepare your tea."

Minutes later, they all sat around each other with herbal tea warming their hands and comforting their nostrils. With a sip of the now lukewarm liquid and a deep "mmm", Ivan made the decision to form conversation.

"If I may ask, what are your names?"

Gilbert lifted his head at the interruption of his thoughts. "I'd expect you to ask that _before _you take in two complete strangers." he mocked with a mischievous upward curve of his lips. "I'm Gilbert. My brother's name is Ludwig." he stated. He was still rather reluctant to hand out their last name.

Ivan smiled warmly. "In that case, hello Gilbert," He turned to Ludwig. "Hello Ludwig." He took another sip of his tea, before daring to question them again. "How old are you both?"

Gilbert frowned heavily, but answered. "I'm 15." he murmured.

"I'm 7." Ludwig added.

"I'm 28." Ivan said.

Gilbert rolled his eyes once again and mumbled, "Old man."

The Russian man pouted. "That's mean!" he protested weakly, but he couldn't stop himself from laughing a bit.

Gilbert snuck in a cackle while laughing. "But it's true."

Frowning, Ivan said, "Once you're my age, you won't think that way."

Gilbert didn't pay any attention to that remark, merely shrugging his shoulders and sipping his tea nonchalantly. It wasn't of his prideful nature to give into any responses that just _might _have harmed it.

Apparently, Ludwig found that as the perfect time to speak out for what had been nibbling at his mind for the past five minutes. "Is the steak done yet?" he whined, not yet having touched the milk he had been served.

Ivan looked down at the young lad. "Nope, fifteen more minutes." he told him.

The blond German let out a loud and lengthy groan, finally taking a sip from his tea, mainly to keep himself from imagining the juices of a thick slab of meat littering his tastebuds once he sunk his teeth into it. He shivered at the thought.

The boy's displeasure only caused the Russian to laugh heartily. "I understand how you feel." he joked. "She's a real tasty one. _Especially _with that perfect mixture of spices. Ah, I can't wait to—" he was interrupted by Gilbert's dirty sense of humour.

"Language! He's just a child, for Christ's sake!" the albino raved mockingly.

This actually caused Ivan to giggle openly, nearly choking on his tea. Gilbert merely grinned at his successful joke and continued to down the lukewarm liquid.

Decades later—at least, according to Ludwig—the small lot of them were slicing the large slabs of rib eye steak into smaller pieces they could consume. No matter how much the younger of the two Germans insisted he could cut his own, Gilbert ignored the protests and handled it for him.

Ivan smiled at the sight. Sighing inwardly, he frowned—but just a for a moment. "Ludwig reminds me of my younger self. My older sister would watch me like a hawk. A little troublemaker, I was!" he cackled while the two boys listened with slight interest. "But once my little sister got older, she had her hands full with trying to keep her away from me!" He visibly flinched at that thought.

"Why would she need to be kept away from you?" Gilbert asked.

"Well, let's just say she had a bit of an 'obsession' with me." Ivan murmured.

Gilbert decided not to push anymore on the issue with his younger sister. With another bite of steak into his mouth, he asked, "Where are your sisters? They live here anymore?"

Suddenly, the air in the room became extremely thick. The Russian man didn't open his mouth for awhile, and just when Gilbert was about to give up hope on receiving an answer, Ivan spoke.

"They're . . . " he began. "They're back in Russia." He forced his lips to curve up in a smile, though Gilbert could easily tell that it differed from the many others they received from him. But he wouldn't dare push on the subject that clearly made the elder male uncomfortable.

"Oh." he whispered. As delicious as the meat he had been so eagerly consuming was, his stomach felt as if it was tightening, and it was no longer craving food. "Hey, Luddy, you want mine?" asked Gilbert.

As expected, the blond nodded eagerly, clearly not phased by the touchy scene he and Ivan had just created. Gilbert began cutting the steak for his younger brother before sliding the plate over to him.

Ivan rose a curious eyebrow with a most innocent expression on his face. "Not hungry?"

Gilbert shook his head. "Maybe my stomach has been getting smaller?" he shrugged.

"Well then, I guess we'll just have to fix that!" the Russian chirped.

Gilbert gave a weak smile and nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I guess." he mumbled.

/

After Ludwig had finished eating, he and his brother were jogging up the stairs back to their temporary residence. Almost immediately, the young blond collapsed on the fluffy bed with a sigh.

"Ugh... Too much food..." he complained.

Gilbert cackled mockingly, earning a glare from the youngling.

"Shut up! You always eat just as much and you know it!" Ludwig protested.

"But I'm bigger and older than you, so I have the right!" he retorted.

Gilbert's grin only widened when he caught sight of his brother's scowl. He ran his skinny yet calloused fingers through the sunlit wisps of hair while massaging Ludwig's scalp.

"Aw, c'mon, Luddy! Don't gimme that look! You'll be big enough to eat as much as me eventually!"

Said lad merely crossed his arms across his chest and rolled onto the other side of the bed without making further eye contact with the elder. Gilbert sighed heavily, though still let a soft smile nibble at his lips as he let his crimson gaze search across the tiny ball of the upset German boy.

Nudging the other's shoulder, he said, "Hey, don't fall asleep just yet—you smell like horse shit."

He could hear the sound of Ludwig groaning deeply. "So do you." he grumbled.

"My point exactly." Gilbert agreed. "We both need to wash up. Maybe if we're lucky, this ol' shrine of a house has a bathtub." He sighed contently at that thought.

With a huff, Ludwig gave in. Dismounting from the bed, he said, "Fine."

The elder German grinned at his apparent accomplishment. "Attaboy! Let's go ask Braginski where the bathroom is." Come to think of it, maybe they should've taken up on that offer for a tour.

After stepping down the spiral staircase for what seemed like the umpteenth time, Gilbert rounded a corner into the kitchen, only to find it empty. He frowned, his brows furrowing.

"Ivan!" he shouted, letting the word drag out. The sound bounced off the high ceiling of the house—surely, the Russian must have heard it. And it was just as Gilbert suspected when Ivan appeared abruptly from a corridor.

As usual, he wore his seemingly ever-present smile. "Yes?"

"Where's the bathroom?" asked Gilbert.

The sigh Ivan let out was incredibly audible, as if he wanted them to hear. "That's what you rattled my eardrums for? I thought something was wrong!" he ranted.

"Friggin' hell, _chill."_ Gilbert grunted irritably.

Ivan grinned cockily to himself. "I'd rather not. I'm sure we all know that it's far too cold to 'chill'. Especially you two!" he joked.

After a low, animal-like growl escaped his throat, Gilbert said, "Watch it, Braginski."

Said male only chuckled heartily and started towards the staircase. "Come now—to the bathroom, we go!" he announced.

The albino nodded. As he was forced to stare at the larger European's back, he could only think, "Strange indeed."

"What was that?"

Oops, did he say that out loud? "Uh, nothing."

/

Ivan had shown the two brothers where the upstairs bathroom was, even bothering to give them a full tour of the wooden-floored palace. It must've been larger than their old bedroom! Even as Gilbert had anticipated, there _was_ a bathtub.

"You can borrow my clothes. Though, they will be a bit big..." That was a helluva understatement—anyone could tell by merely taking a single glance at the large man.

Gilbert went back to his room, leaving Ludwig to his own devices in the bathroom, while Ivan disappeared from sight to retrieve his clothing. Time whipped by before the ash-blond-haired man appeared at the doorway. He knocked on the door, despite it already being open.

"Huh? Come in." Gilbert was snapped from his thoughts by the interruption.

Ivan set the bundle of clothing in his arms down next to the albino before taking a seat on the other side of him. When he rose an eyebrow, he took that as a request for an explanation.

"Is it okay if we talk?" Ivan asked, his voice noticeably softer than usual.

Gilbert immediately became alarmed at the sudden change in the childish man's attitude. Despite his nerves, he nodded, saying, "Sure. What about?"

The larger of the two twirled a loose thread from his sweater, determined to keep his gaze from meeting Gilbert's. "About your parents," he began hesitantly, simply to test the waters with the German's emotions.

Gilbert's body tensed up, his unkept nails burrowing into his trousers. "What about them?" he inquired in a murmur. It comforted him slightly to notice that the other seemed equally nervous.

"They really just kicked you two out?"

Gilbert nodded.

Ivan's amethyst orbs drifted away from the teen, struggling to keep the dark conversation alive. "Do you know why?"

Somewhat expectedly, he could hear a low growl come from Gilbert's throat. "Why do _you _care?" At last, the lad made eye-contact with him. Though, the fact that those crimson eyes were filled with rage and unpleasant emotion hurt Ivan. "You don't know who we are. You don't know if I'm a good person. My name might not even be Gilbert." His voice noticeably cracked, trying to let out sobs—but he urged it to remain steady. "If I really wanted to, I could sneak downstairs tonight and kill you in your sleep. I have good reason to—I'd be able to take all your cash and flee from here." he forced his eyes to show dangerous intent.

Ivan's eyes widened at those words, as they were clearly meant to hurt him. Though, his expression slowly softened. "You wouldn't do that." he stated simply.

If possible, the albino's expression became even more malicious. "How should you know? As I said before, you don't know who I am."

Ivan shrugged. "I just have a feeling." he said. "You don't seem like the kind of person to do something like that." His smile returned as purple and crimson clashed together at last. "You know what I think, Gilbert?" In a voice barely above a whisper, he said, "I think you've been hurt too much to hurt anyone else."

In a moment, Gilbert scowled viciously and wrapped his fingers around Ivan's thick neck, pushing him down. "Say that again, fat-ass. I fucking _dare _you." he challenged.

The Russian winced at the albino's surprising strength, but managed to keep his grin stabilised. "It's true, isn't it?"

"It's not!" Gilbert growled.

Ivan's expression gained slight seriousness. "Then prove it."

The younger male's grip loosened due to the confusion that was clear as day on his face.

"Kill me." Ivan ordered nonchalantly. "I won't struggle."

Gilbert's eyes widened to the size of saucers. His ears didn't seem to take in the words clearly, as his mouth was left agape. "Kill...?" when he finally spoke, he barely got one word from his lips.

"Yes." Ivan responded. "Do it—it'll only benefit you and Ludwig."

On instinct, Gilbert's grip began to tighten—to the point where Ivan's string of breath was running thin. Despite that, he just continued to smile and watch the German above him intently. He could feel his windpipe tightening, and just as it felt as if he'd go unconscious, the hands on his neck let go. He rose an eyebrow at the frowning albino.

"No." Gilbert said simply. "Of course I'm not gonna kill you, _dummkopf!"_ he exclaimed, not hesitating to give Ivan a light whack on the forehead.

With an "ouch", Ivan sat up, aiding the stinging area in the process. Despite the pain, his lips curved up even further, exposing some of his pearly-white teeth. "I told you so."

Gilbert's mouth opened momentarily, though he was interrupted by an unforgettable voice.

"_Bruder! _I'm done!" Ludwig shouted, his body still not in sight.

Gilbert pushed Ivan, urging him from the room.

"Okay, okay!" He began moving towards the door with a giggle.

Before the man left, Gilbert added, "And not a _thing _about this to Luddy, got it?"

Giving a messy salute, he responded cheerfully, "Roger!"

**/**

**A/N: I told you it sucked.**

**Maaaaajor age difference. I mean, Ivan is like twice Gil's age.**

**And yes, Luddy knows what "shit" means but not "afford". I knew what it meant when I was 'round his age. Even started watchin' porn once I hit 8 years.**

**Anywhore, I'll see y'all later, once the next chapter is up.**


	3. Chapter 3

Along the next few days, things had started out rather awkward with Ivan and Gilbert. Well, at least it seemed that way from Gilbert's point of view. If anything, the whole "incident" involving the two had made Ivan even _more_ childish and bubbly. Gilbert had become concerned as to whether or not Ludwig had noticed the incredibly thick and humid atmosphere floating between the two.

"I'll be back by six-thirty." Ivan told them cheerfully. The lovely weekend had soon faded into weekdays, and the Russian had the pleasure of going to work. At least, that's what he tended to call it. In reality, it was a workshop for students in the law enforcement field. The two Germans had just recently discovered that Ivan had began school just a few months ago. He took classes online while going to hands-on workshops every once and awhile. Once his courses were completed, then he'd begin training. Apparently, he worked all week and once during the weekend at a local market. He had taken off that day. The only way Ivan could afford that big-ass house was because he held the family fortune.

It appeared that the elder had a lot on his hands—not to mention a few kids to bother with. Easily finding themselves pitying the man, Gilbert and Ludwig began doing little "chores" around the house that Ivan would usually tend to. Laundry, the dishes, cleaning—anything normal for the children of the house. No matter how much Ivan insisted he do it, the brothers just couldn't bring themselves to let poor Ivan work his ass off even more than he had previously. It just wasn't right.

The day slipped past with Ludwig and Gilbert completing any simple task to be finished. Afterwards, they took that time to give themselves a tour of the large residence. They found themselves entranced by each and every room. Ivan's, while it still had junk scattered here and there, was still breathtaking nonetheless. A king-sized bed lay tucked to the back of the centred wall, scarlet sheets draped neatly over them.

Hesitantly, Gilbert took a step inside, Ludwig following after. He started towards the bed, running his fingers over the smooth fabric. It was even softer than the one he and Ludwig shared! His eyes drifted towards the nightstand, where a small lamp and an overturned magazine sat. In curiosity, he lifted the object, then began to skim through the pages. Once realising what the contents were, he stopped at a random page. Two masculine men rested near each other, limbs scrambled together and lips slammed together in eager and intimate ecstasy. The not-present censorship of their lower regions only made it worse. Gilbert could feel warmth spreading towards his face—his pale skin making his flushed appearance incredibly obvious.

A tug on the albino's over-sized t-shirt caused him to slam the magazine shut. His eyes drifted down towards the source.

"What's that?" Ludwig asked, his big blue eyes glimmering with curiosity and innocence.

Not having prepared an answer, Gilbert replied with, "It's the Bible." Surprisingly enough, that had worked. Obviously not finding the subject of Christianity interesting, Ludwig strolled away to begin scanning other sections of the room.

With a barely audible sigh, Gilbert reached down to set the dreaded magazine just as he had found it.

"Enjoying yourselves?" a sudden and familiar voice inquired, annoyance biting at the tone.

The elder German's heart stuttered and then stopped before starting up again. Both he and Ludwig stared speechlessly at Ivan, their faces pink with embarrassment. Suddenly, all of his struggles to come up with an excuse came out a stream of divided stutters. Ludwig bolted behind Gilbert in weak yet successful attempt to hide himself from the annoyed Russian's sight. That was one good part about being a _little _brother.

"Um, I . . ." he trailed off, each of his knees bumping against the other.

Seeing the teenager's fear, Ivan quickly made an attempt to calm him. "It's fine!" he insisted, walking up to the albino and blond before patting them both on the back. "Just," he began. "Try to ask before you go snooping around." he said. "Please?"

Ludwig wiped the tears neither had noticed formed while they both nodded. Ivan smiled down at the blond softly. He reached out to gently pat his head.

"Don't fret about it! You guys didn't know." he insisted kindly.

Although he didn't show it, the words made Ludwig feel better somewhat. He nodded and averted his gaze from the amethysts settled on him, staring at the mahogany below.

The eldest of the trio straightened his back and started out of the room, motioning for them to follow.

"Now that that's settled, let's start on dinner, hmm?" Ivan suggested, though it wasn't quite in need of a response. The German siblings knew good food when they ate it—and Ivan's was unbelievably _outstanding._ It seemed abnormal for a man of such wealth, but stereotypes were not always followed in the real world.

After several minutes of settling down at the kitchen table, the two boys guessed that today's meal consisted of pork, and, judged by the fact that Ivan began peeling potatoes, mashed potatoes were on the menu as well.

Out of good nature (and totally not the fact that he had been caught looking through Ivan's stuff), Gilbert stood from his seat and walked to where Ivan stood.

"I'll do it." he offered, earning the Russian's attention.

Immediately, Ivan protested. "No, that's fine! I can handle it." he assured him.

Gilbert frowned. "What, you think I'm not good enough?" he challenged, puffing out his chest with a smirk.

Chuckles bounced from the ash-blond haired man's mouth as he held up his hands up in defence. "No, sir! I fully respect your authority!" he joked.

Gilbert's grin only grew wider at his laughter. "Then lemme help!" he insisted.

Ivan sighed—but, nevertheless, still smiled. "Then get busy!" he chirped, handing the albino teen a potato and peeler.

The German held slight regret for offering to help the other, but once the thought of how hard he worked to look out for two kids (add in the fact he had been caught looking at his porn), and he was slicing the skin off faster than a cannibal on fresh meat.

Minutes passed before three plates filled with the tasty remains of a committed pig and violently mutilated potatoes sat patiently in front of the European lot. Its flowing steam seduced them, though it also hinted that it burnt at the touch. Ludwig took a collection of the food on his fork, blowing hurricanes across the still steaming vegetable. Gilbert mimicked the action, figuring that it must have some sort of positive result.

Purple orbs scanned them repeatedly, as if intrigued. Finally, Ivan focused on the elder of the two. Gilbert hesitantly lowered the piece of pork into his mouth. Satisfied, he let out a low humming sound. With a grin, he eagerly shovelled in more of the desirable meal. Ivan could only smile. The sight of another swimming in some form of happiness was a truly ecstatic feeling. Despite their little run in a few days ago—and the one just a half hour ago—the albino didn't seem bothered by either. Ivan could probably say the same—though he still had some regret about the boys looking through his room. Some things in there weren't meant for younger eyes.

Ivan nearly jumped when those ruby eyes so intensely fixated on the food bolted towards him.

"What is it?" Gilbert asked.

Heat raced towards the Russian's facial features, causing a slight red hue to harass the normally pale skin. "N-Nothing." he replied frantically. With that, he began eating.

Dinner passed without much being said. The meal ended with the clink of the dishes and silverware into the dishwasher. Ivan flicked the switch to turn it on before turning to face the two brothers. The overly excited curve of his lips was present, as well as a certain gallop of similar excitement in his barefooted step. Though the smile was innocent, with his pearly white teeth exposed, it still managed to make itself cringeworthy.

"Let's watch a movie!" he exclaimed eagerly, throwing his arms up to only add to his enthusiasm.

Gilbert rose a light-coloured eyebrow. "A movie? Don't you have that workshop tomorrow?" the albino inquired.

Ivan nodded. "Yes, but it doesn't start until eleven. Besides, it's only around seven o'clock." he pointed out.

"Good point." the teenager added.

The Russian tilted his head innocently. "Exactly why we should watch a movie! I haven't had a chance to do anything with you kids, and if we're going to be living together, then we might as well start now."

Gilbert lost interest in that statement about halfway through. He waved his fingers in front of Ivan's face in an attempt to shut him up.

"Okay, fine. Just stop talking." he said with a huff.

Ivan led the lot to the living room. Ludwig crossed his stubby arms over his chest, his bottom lip jutted out in a pout. It was as if his consent didn't matter! Oh, the joy of being a toddler.

Gilbert threw his body onto the lone recliner effortlessly, immediately going for the lever to activate the footrest. The other two males were stuck together on the sofa. Ivan didn't mind, though Ludwig found the situation rather awkward. The blond took his time to decide which half he desired, as the Russian was kneeling down to insert the DVD. Once it was in, he grabbed the remote and hopped onto the soft, scarlet cushions.

Moments passed before the start menu appeared on the impressive flat screen. The arrow flew across it until it reached "play".

"'The King And I'?" Gilbert questioned, his chin perched softly between his palm.

Ivan nodded happily. "Yup! It's a classic. Made by Rogers and—"

"Never heard of it." the albino interrupted. He turned his head back towards the screen once an unfamiliar tune began to linger from the speakers.

/

So far, the film was okay, in Gilbert's book. The plot was intriguing, and the acting was good. The only bad part was the singing. As lovely as the voices were, Ivan's constant singing—no, _screeching_ along was agonising. It was as if he had the lyrics engraved into his mind. Sitting through a tiring verse of "Getting To Know You" got old _very _quickly.

The Siamese version of the tale _Tom's Cabin_ was playing—with the main character dancing gracefully atop the phoney ice. Gilbert's crimson eyes were beginning to become heavy, but not to the point of exhaustion. He turned towards the sofa at the sound of Ludwig yawning, his eyes closing gradually. The blond's head collapsed into Ivan's lap, his plump fingers gripping the fabric of his pants. Clearly noticing the slumber of the German child, he ceased his singing.

Gilbert's ruby-coloured glare pinched Ivan's skin. A low growl erupted from the bottom of his lungs. The Russian took notice, and let the edges of his thin, pale lips curve up innocently.

"No need to feel bad—there's still plenty of room on Uncle Ivan's lap!" he joked in a whisper, motioning towards were Ludwig slept.

Gilbert's incredibly pale features glittered a slight rose colour at the man's light chuckling.

"Shut up." he grumbled, his arms crossed and his eyes stubbornly fixated on the screen.

As the film led on, his vision became blurry. The sight of the Siamese king laying on his death bed became nothing but a blob of several colours with each passing moment. The crimson escaped from his eye, replaced by his entire eyelid. His head barely hung over the leather arm of the chair, hinting that he was drifting further and further into the depths of his dreamland.

Meanwhile, amethyst orbs rested softly on the rather admirable sight. Ivan's calloused fingers reached out towards Gilbert hesitantly. His fingertips just barely stroked the silky, platinum locks before the albino made a small grunting noise and snuggled deeper into the smooth leather of the recliner. The Russian could just barely keep himself from squealing. Bringing his hand back, he let his lips nibble at a small smile. A slight rustling from his other side brought his attention back towards a slumbering Ludwig. The sight only made his smile grow.

Ivan began to yawn himself, taking that as cue to turn the television off. It wasn't even that late; perhaps sleep was contagious. In a fraction of a second, the motion picture flickered into a still darkness. With a gentle hand, he lifted Ludwig from his thigh, cradling his body softly as his legs and arms dangled below. He tip-toed from the living area, then up the staircase. Setting the infant down on the bed, he went back to the first floor to repeat the process with the larger German.

Carrying Gilbert up the stairs certainly wasn't as easy as carrying Ludwig was, but he could manage. He was a heavy sleeper, apparently; not many people could sleep through a bumpy, bridal-style carry up the metal stairs. Snores nearly blocked out every creak Ivan created. At last, he set the teenager down on the bed beside his younger brother. He lifted the blanket from where it lay folded on the edge of the bed and brought it to the air, letting it settle down onto both boys.

Ivan admired the comforting, heart-warming sight with one last, longing glance. His lips cracked upwards in a heart-ached smile. He leaned down gradually, purple eyes settling on both Germans before letting his lips press softly onto the skin of their foreheads. Although Gilbert's acne came as somewhat bothersome, he couldn't say he regretted the action.

"Sweet dreams." he murmured, hardly aware that he had even said those words out loud.

As much as he cherished the moment, the familiarity of it all was particularly wrenching. Ivan's top teeth clenched down into his lower lip, causing it to ache. Without a second thought, he exited the room, closing the door with a light click. He let his eyes drift upwards, toward the ceiling. He stared at it endlessly—as if it were the most fascinating thing in existence. But that timeframe ended when the man leaned against the closed door, and slowly slid down until he met the carpet. He brought his gaze to meet the oriental rug just a few feet away. Salted liquid pricked at the corners of his glossy, purple orbs. The dam he had been struggling to hold back soon cracked open, tears trickling down his soft and child-like face. It was too familiar; they were too familiar.

**/**

**A/N: this chapter certainly did have a lot of fluff, but lookie there, ya learned something new about Ivan!**

**Yeahh "The King and I" I know. Sorry if some of the details for the movie were off... It's been awhile.**

**uNTIL NEXT CHAPTER MY LITTLE PIGLETS!**


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